


Enemies

by romanticalgirl



Category: British Actor RPF, Hornblower RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For <a href="http://iansmomesq.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://iansmomesq.livejournal.com/"></a><b>iansmomesq</b></p><p>Originally posted 9-11-06</p>
    </blockquote>





	Enemies

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://iansmomesq.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://iansmomesq.livejournal.com/)**iansmomesq**
> 
> Originally posted 9-11-06

“What are you doing?” Ioan sat on the bench, one leg on the floor and the other stretched out on the cushion, his foot dangling off the edge. His eyebrow was raised, arched perfectly as he glanced at Jamie over the top of his beer.

Jamie met his gaze and shrugged, somewhat at a loss. “Drinking.”

“You’re not.”

He waved his beer back and forth, sunlight glinting through the stained glass windows and off the dark bottle. “I am.”

“You’re flirting.”

“Flirting?”

Ioan tilted the mouth of his bottle toward the bar. The girl was half-turned toward them, her skirt high on her thigh and slit higher, her leg swinging like a steady pendulum, counting off the seconds Jamie resisted. Her hair was a swirl of brown and blonde, long and thick and framing her face with wisps that probably took her a good hour to get them to look natural.

“I’m not flirting with her.” Ioan’s eyebrow rose higher and Jamie shook his head. “Besides, I doubt I’m her type.”

“Yes. Whatever could she see in a dashing, blond Englishman?”

“Especially as he’s sitting across from a far more dashing, tall, dark handsome Welshman.” Jamie took a smirking sip of his beer. “I think if one of us is in favor with the ladies of Spain.”

“We’re in Portugal masquerading as France.” Ioan finished his beer and licked his lips. “Besides I look like half the blokes around only paler. You’re exotic ‘round these parts.”

“You’re full of shite.” Jamie finished his beer as well. “You want another round?”

“Bet you a tenner she asks for your phone number.”

Jamie shook his head and grabbed the empty bottles, heading for the bar. He settled against the counter next to the girl, offering her a hint of a smile as he waited for the bartender.

“You’re English, no?”

“Yes.” He ordered another pair of beers, tapping the bar as the bartender opened them. “You?”

“No. Not English.” She rested her fingers on his arm, nails scraping lightly against his skin. “From here.”

“Er, yes. That’s what I meant.” He shifted his arm and offered another smile. “Well, I should go back to…um…”

She picked her napkin off the bar and tucked it into the waistband of Jamie’s jeans. “When you’re done drinking with your friend.” She patted the paper then slid her hand down lower, grazing Jamie’s crotch. “I’ll be waiting.”

Jamie swallowed hard and blinked as she slipped off her stool and headed for the door. Grabbing the bottles, he headed back to the table, his lips curved into a knowing smirk. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“You owe me a tenner.”

“I owe you shite, my friend. You said she’d ask for _my_ number.”

Ioan reached over and snagged the napkin from Jamie’s jeans and smoothed it out on the table. “It’s a bit damp. She didn’t excite you too much, did she?”

“Oh, fuck off, wanker.” He slid into the booth and leaned his head back against the wall, taking a long drink. “What’s it say?”

“Says you should come by her place and fuck her until she can’t move.”

“It does, does it?”

“No, but that’s what I’d have written.” Ioan snagged his own beer and took a drink, using the girl’s napkin to wipe the perspiration off the glass, smearing the ink. “You know, fraternizing with the enemy would have gotten you shot back in Hornblower’s time.”

“Enemy, is she?”

Ioan shifted in his seat, straightening and sliding his long legs across the short distance of the table, settling his foot between Jamie’s thighs. “Oh, I think so.”

“So, if _you_ were flirting with me across a crowded room and got the opportunity to stuff a napkin down my trousers, it would suggest I take you home and fuck you until you couldn’t move, hm?”

“If I got a chance to put something down your trousers, it wouldn’t be a napkin.” Ioan drained the last of his beer. He unwrapped the napkin and set it in front of Jamie, the blurred numbers still fairly visible. “You done?”

Jamie finished his beer and set it down in the middle of the napkin. “Yeah.”

“You going to call your admirer?”

“Dunno.” Jamie shrugged and reached down, his fingers skirting over Ioan’s ankle, grazing the skin beneath his jeans. “Depends on you, I guess.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” Jamie eased Ioan’s foot off the bench and slid out of the booth, leaning in to whisper in Ioan’s ear. “And what exactly it is you might be interested in sticking down my trousers.”  



End file.
